Blood and Water
If I could write out the world
I would start with a pen
And stream out my thoughts
Flowing like water
Thick like blood
In murky waves of my subconscious
Spiraling down into a pool of black
That attaches to white in a single word
One that stretches out with inky claws
Scratching under the surface, so deep
Embedding itself into my mind
The impetus of a single idea
A disease that spreads like raving mad
But first touches so gently
One hardly knows the difference
Between a coherent feeling
And an insane state of being
It stirs my pen and frees my soul
But also chains it to another:
Inspiration, so forceful and condemning
To my thoughts in my subconscious,
Which began with a single idea
Flowing like water
And thick like blood
In my attempt to write out the world